


On The Sidelines

by Nuwandalz



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuwandalz/pseuds/Nuwandalz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the best friend sucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Sidelines

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd.

Heavy thumps land on the door and Hesam curses, scrambling up from in front of the television and heading towards the door quickly. He hears Peter call out his name and scowling, Hesam takes a deep breath in before he bothers to open the door.

Peter is bleeding from the nose, red streaking down over his lips and chin.

“I hope you tipped the driver,” Hesam grumbles before grabbing Peter to force him inside. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

He can already imagine the weird looks he’s going to get from his neighbours. Hopefully this time nobody noticed Peter standing outside his home looking like a wreck. They’re twitchy about him enough without needing Peter to add to their suspicions. 

Peter strips off his jacket, tossing it across the kitchen table and heads towards Hesam’s bathroom. Hesam watches Peter’s back, staring openly and trying very hard not to start in on Peter himself.

“We fought,” Peter’s voice answers him, the sound echoing a little from inside the bathroom. Hesam rolls his eyes and grabs for one of the hand towels from the bench as he joins Peter. Two words and they alone paint a picture all too easily for him.  
Bent over the basin, Peter washes his face and Hesam just simply leans in the doorway, glaring.

“I can see that,” he says, voice tight. “And since when do you start coming here to clean up after a fight with your _guy_?”

The look Peter shoots him through the reflection of the basin mirror isn’t kind and Hesam tosses the towel at Peter before returning back to the television. He doesn’t give a damn that Peter thinks being in _that_ relationship is what he needs, because it’s not Peter who has to be on the receiving end of this reoccurring train wreck. For once he wished Peter would just _listen_ to him, but he knows that’s not going to be happening anytime soon.  
After a few minutes of angrily jabbing his thumb into the TV remote, Peter joins him 26 channel surfs later.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Hesam agrees, not looking up. He can see Peter’s bare feet just out the corner of his eye and realizes Peter has already made himself at home. A sigh and the pale feet shift, weight moving from one to the other.

“He killed someone and I didn’t know what to—“

“I _really_ don’t give a fuck, Peter.”

A long beat of silence and Hesam just wants to drive his hand through a wall or hide. He hears Peter move away, the sound of padded footsteps barely heard over his own heartbeat banging heavily in his ears. The apartment is silent and it takes him a second to realize he has switched the television off. Naturally, the silence doesn’t last long.

“What the hell, Hesam? You tell me you think you’re in love with me and you don’t—“

Hesam shoots up off the couch and rounds it angrily, finding Peter standing in the middle of the kitchen with his arms folded.

“I don’t want to know what the hell you and _Sylar_ get up to and you _know_ I don’t get all this ability crap and how the two of you can beat the shit out of each other and look perfectly normal by the time morning comes around. I don’t get why the hell you think sleeping around with a _serial killer_ and _hiding_ the bastard is supposed to make the world a better place.”   
He doesn’t mention that Sylar was the one who killed Nathan – there’s silent rules he is happy to agree with and not dropping Nathan’s name is one of them.

He steps up close to Peter and jabs his finger painfully into the other’s chest. “But you come to _my_ home because you rely on me being here for you, because I don’t treat you like everyone else, because you want someone to care. So don’t just walk in here and expect me to fawn over you – I don’t _have_ to open the door you know. You keep doing this to me.”

Peter’s hands clench around his body visibly tighter and Hesam blows out a heavy breath, taking a step back.

“I don’t _think_ that I’m in love with you, I _know_ it. But I’m telling you man, you keep this up and my love for you is not going to keep me here.”

The last words apparently hit home and Peter’s face crumples before he bows his head. Hesam walks away, unable to deal with seeing Peter like this and leaves him alone in the kitchen to cry. He goes into his room, dragging out the blankets and extra pillows to dump on the couch.  
In the morning Peter will be gone just like he always is and Hesam hated that part more than anything. Almost as much as he hates the way he always crawls back to Peter, helping the other clean bloodstains off floorboards before dawn. It makes him hate himself.

Peter’s head jerks up when he returns, eyes looking red rimmed and Hesam just tries to ignore it along with everything else that is wrong with this picture. Dropping the blankets and pillows down, he looks over at Peter and waits. A small hesitation and then Peter joins him, standing at his side and looking down at the couch.

Couch for friends, bed for lovers. It didn’t matter that he loved Peter with his entire damn being, Peter was with Sylar and those two were going to stay together forever. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, looking and sounding pitiful. Peter turns his body towards Hesam’s and then curls a hand around the back of Hesam’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. Hesam stays where he is, hands clenching into fists and mouth keeping firmly closed. Sometimes Peter is a jerk and other times he is _unintentionally_ an asshole.

After recognizing Hesam’s lack of interest, Peter draws away and moves to start getting settled into the makeshift bed. 

“You don’t even want to be with him,” Hesam points out uselessly. He forces himself not to lick his lips. 

Peter snuggles down amongst the blankets and drops his head back against the pillow. If it weren’t for the hint of blood stains on his shirt, Hesam would never have guessed he’d been in a fight a few hours ago.

“He needs someone to love him and I’m the only one who can,” Peter replies, sounding tired. The argument is kind of an old one between them, although Hesam keeps most of his shouting restricted to his own mind. Sylar needs someone to love him so he doesn’t go flying off the handle and kill everyone in sight. Hesam needs Peter to love him, but apparently his needs are put last due to their non-threatening nature. The worst thing he could do in his life was fake being sick and not go into work.

“Get some sleep,” Hesam says with a sigh, turning away to head to his own bed. He’ll spend half the night staring at the ceiling wondering what he did wrong to deserve falling in love with an idiot. Sometimes he’s just not sure if it’s worth being the best friend but he knows he’d never give it up. 

He’d rather live his life being the best friend that picks up Peter Petrelli pieces every time there is some _thing_ with Sylar, instead of living a life without Peter Petrelli in it at all.


End file.
